Sixteen Days to Live
by Searchingformyheart
Summary: "I'm sixteen today, Mommy." The gravestone stared back at her. "And I'll see you in sixteen days." People were so cruel. She could just die.
1. Little Birdie

"What a bitch," whispered a girl, the words floating around and hanging heavily in the air.

She ignored it.

"And such a slut, too," giggled another. "Look at how small her shirt is."

In reality, Utau wasn't a slut. She was simply poor.

"I can't see why she bothers coming to school," murmured one guy to his friend. "She only gets hated on."

"I can't see why she bothers to keep breathing," snickered his asshole of a buddy. "She only wastes air."

"Dude, she can hear you-"

"I don't care."

Neither did Utau, really. She sighed and stared up at the ceiling. She thought that if she suddenly ceased breathing right now, fell to the ground stone cold, she wouldn't care.

Just like everybody else.

* * *

In the beginning, she was innocent.

In the beginning she was happy.

He could remember her sassy attitude and her fierce will. Those beautiful bright eyes were now dim.

Kukai curiously glanced at her.

She was a mess, to be sure. Her backpack had a gash, and dark purple ringed her dull eyes. Her shirt was too small for her and her pants were too big. Her hair was matted and dark.

But she couldn't be _that_ bad. He had heard the rumors, sure, but he knew her from before. There was nothing that could make her change that much, from being a girl that kept her feelings protected to a girl without feelings at all.

So he got up and sat next to her. "Want to be partners for the project?"

She looked up at him. "Who the fuck are you and what do you want?"

He reeled back a bit. What?

"Uh, I'm Kukai Souma, haha," he nervously chuckled. "We used to be friends in elementary school, I think."

"Okay, Souma, we're obviously not friends anymore. I get it: I'm a bitch, I'm a slut, I should go die, blah blah blah. Unless you've got a creative one, let me fucking sit in peace."

"That wasn't what I was going to say at all," he managed. "I just wanted to be partners with you."

"Nobody wants to be partners with me. I'm not a charity case. I don't care." With that, she rose from her chair and walked to the back corner of the room.

On the way, somebody tripped her and she sprawled to the ground, harsh laughter echoing around the room.

_I don't care, _she told herself. _I. Don't. Care. _

She took a deep breath and picked herself back up.

* * *

"Hi Mommy," Utau gently said as she laid the bouquet down at the smooth marble tombstone. "How's heaven?"

She rambled on a bit, talking about a movie she had watched, about how hard school was.

She didn't tell her mother about the other kids, about the names, about the endless pranks. She didn't want her to worry.

"Say, what if I joined you? I miss you and Ikuto and Daddy. No one would miss me here."

She was breathing harder now, trying to keep the tears from slipping out. _Stay strong, Utau. You've only got yourself now, and if even you break, then you've really got nothing left. _

That was when she made a decision. She reached into her backpack for a pen, but could only find the stub of a pencil. She placed it carefully back and picked up a charred match she had used to light a candle. With the ashes, she wrote a number on her arm.

_16._ "I'm sixteen today, Mommy," Utau said, the tears silently sliding down her cheeks. "And I'll see you in sixteen days."

* * *

He saw her while he was out running. It might've sounded weird to some, running in a graveyard, but it was peaceful and he usually went to go pay his respects to his grandparents.

He didn't expect to see Tsukiyomi Utau kneeled over at a grave, gently placing down flowers and speaking with a content expression he had never seen on her.

He stopped for a moment, just as she started trembling a little. His heart sped up as he nervously realized that he was intruding.

Reluctantly, he turned away, about to put his ear bud back in his ear, but not before he heard something that made him freeze. "I'm sixteen today, Mommy. And I'll see you in sixteen days."

* * *

"Hey, everybody, my party's on Friday!" Saaya's loud voice cut through the crowd, instantly drawing attention. She strutted down the hallway, passing out invites.

Utau shuffled by, and Saaya flounced to a stop in front of her. "Want one?"

Utau glared at her suspiciously. "Is it going to blow up?"

"Don't be silly!" she giggled. "I've been a bit mean, so here's my apology. Do come!"

With that, she dropped the card and Utau didn't bother catching it. Instead, she bent over to pick it up as Saaya skipped away.

"Why not?" she murmured to herself. "Fifteen days left. I might as well make use of it."

* * *

What was he supposed to do? He had definitely heard her say that. Did that mean she was going to kill herself? And would he be responsible, if he didn't do anything?

He nervously twitched, not even noticing that Nagi was talking.

"Hey, are you okay?" Nagihiko's voice suddenly made him snap back to reality.

"Uh, yeah, haha. Hey, are you going to Saaya's party?" He asked, wanting to quickly change the subject.

Nagi shrugged. "Of course. Who isn't?"

_Tsukiyomi Utau, _Kukai thought.

But she was there. He was shocked, and a churning feeling overcame his stomach. Saaya was up to no good.

Utau had cleaned up a bit. She had washed her hair, and her face, and wore a dress that Kukai knew to be Saaya's. He had no idea why Saaya had lent it to her, but he knew it wasn't good.

It looked good on her, though. Better than it did on the redhead, although if he had said that out loud he would've been ridiculed.

She looked lonely, standing in the corner. And as her glanced at her hand, he winced at the number ten written in permanent markers. _Ten days…_

He made up his mind to talk to her. Maybe he could change her mind.

"Hey, Utau."

She shifted her gaze slightly towards him. "You again, Souma? What is it this time?"

"Uh, nothing. I just wanted to talk to you."

"Bullshit. Nobody wants to talk to me."

"That's not true!"

"Then why am I alone?" She challenged. And he couldn't say anything.

"Well, I'm here," he managed.

She sighed. "Because you feel bad for me."

"I think a lot of people are really mean to you," he offered. "But I'm sure you're just misunderstood."

"I don't know," she said, smiling wryly. "I just know everybody hates me and I'm better off dead."

"Don't say that!"

"I'll say what I want."

He winced at her next words. "People think I'm a freak, and you know it."

"I don't."

"You don't know me yet, I guess."

She said she didn't care, but he could tell she did, the way she stood tense and hostile, defensive. She said she didn't care but he could see the cuts lining up her wrist and showed her pain. Suddenly he was sick to his stomach and hated himself for standing and watching for two years as this happened.

"Come with me," he said, gently taking her wrist and leading her outside.

"What-"

"Here." He sat down under a tree in the yard. "It's quieter, so we can talk."

She remained standing. "Are you going to rape me or something?"

He looked up, shocked. "No!"

"Are you sure you don't want something in exchange for talking to me?"

"What do you view yourself as?" He blurted out. "You're a person, not a vending machine!"

"You're right. People actually want vending machines."

Her matter-of-fact tone saddened him. He firmly patted the ground next to him and she sat down, sighing.

"What's your full name?"

"Tsukiyomi Utau."

"I'm Kukai Souma. Let's pretend like the rest of the world doesn't exist, and we just met. We're like babies; we have no history. Okay?"

"Okay," she said, but cautiously.

"I think the weather's nice today. I've always liked fall. What about you?"

"Yeah."

"The air gets cold but not too cold, and school starts. I get to see all my friends." Immediately he stopped, knowing he had said something wrong.

Her expression didn't change, but he knew she was hurting. _Because she didn't have any friends. _

"Anyways," he hastily carried on. "What hobbies do you have?"

She was silent, debating whether to let him in. Finally, she curtly replied, "I sing."

"Can I hear?" He asked excitedly.

She stiffened instinctively and he wished he had a filter on his mouth. This was too much for her.

"It's okay, you don't have to-"

"Do re mi fa so la ti dooooo," she sang, a little shyly. What surprised him was how good she was. Her voice was full and clear, perfectly on pitch. He smiled and gave her a thumbs up.

And a tiny smile crept on her face as well, until her eyes widened and she paled.

Saaya stood behind Kukai, clapping slowly. "Wonderful! Sounds like a dying seal!"

Utau stared in horror. Saaya's voice was as sweet as sugar and smooth as honey. "Wittle _Tsukiyomi Utau_ likes to sing, huh? Little birdie? I didn't know you were related to Ikuto. I mean, who could tell? He's so hot and you're so… ugh. Where did he go, anyways? Ditched you because he hates you so much?"

Utau was trembling. She put her hands on the ground, about to get up, but Saaya smirked. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. The seams are rigged so that if you sit and stand again, the dress will rip."

Utau was breathing heavily and blinking rapidly, eyes wide. She looked scared, like a trapped animal. Kukai frowned.

"Hey, is this really-"

"Thanks, Kukai." Saaya nonchalantly winked. "Without you, this plan wouldn't have come together. You sure are a good actor!"

Utau's eyes darted to him. "You were acting?" Her voice came out high and panicked.

"No, I was-"

"Of course dear, no one would _actually _talk to you," Saaya cut in, blinking innocently. "Now why don't you run along? Oh wait, you _can't._" Now she laughed harshly, marching over to Utau and forcibly yanking her up. Kukai heard a rip and Utau struggled against the redhead's grip.

"You're disgusting filth," Saaya hissed, her tone no longer sweet. "Get out. I never want you near my house again!" She shoved her towards the street and Utau blindly stumbled, narrowly avoiding a hit with a car.

Kukai felt his stomach twist when she looked back at him with a betrayed look before dashing away, swaying unevenly.

Saaya watched her retreat with satisfaction, and then shot Kukai a dirty glare. "God. I don't see how you can stand her. Talk to her again, and I will ruin you." With that, she tossed her hair and stalked back into her party.

Kukai knew he had a choice. He had ten days. In that time, he could go on like he always had, being nice to all and judging none. He could be that bystander, unwilling to interfere with problems that weren't his. His social status would stay the same.

But he could also try and save someone who was broken and damaged, someone who needed him. Someone who currently thought he had betrayed her, and in that moment, he knew that in ten days he would completely throw his life away to try and change the number on Utau's hand to one with two zeroes instead of one.

* * *

"You're just being stupid again, Utau," she drawled slowly, dragging the blade across her wrist, watching the blood well up. She felt numb and closed her eyes, letting her arm drop into the tub.

_ Of course no one would talk to me._

"Mommy, I miss you. I'll be there soon."

She dried herself off, and scrawled the number nine right above her new wound.

* * *

**Either a two or three shot that I'll finish over the weekend. And I know I haven't updating AMI in FOREVER but please forgive me...**

**Also, bullying is just awful. Don't ever do it. (And just a warning, YES, this is an angst fic. Don't read if you don't want to feel sad.)**

**~Sea**


	2. Green Eyes and Flowers

He paused. Was he really about to do this?

After a minute, he gathered up his courage and knocked on the door, his hand tightening on the flowers he held.

He heard footsteps and the door cautiously creaked open, one purple eye peering around. The eye first widened in fear, and then narrowed before the door started closing.

"Wait!" He jammed his foot in between her door. "I swear Saaya was lying!"

The door paused for a moment. But she didn't speak. Hurriedly, he continued.

"Look, I came here to apologize. I had no idea she was listening and I swear I really did want to talk to you."

Still, she didn't say anything.

"Please, can we just talk?" He winced at how weak that sounded.

Finally, her voice sounded. "How can I trust you?"

He shrugged helplessly. "I brought flowers?"

After what seemed like an eternity, she opened the door. She was wearing what she had been wearing all week, even though it was Saturday. He wondered if she really didn't own any clothes. He had only ever seen her wear a few outfits.

Without a word, she turned and walked back inside, but didn't close the door. He took this as a sign to enter, and awkwardly hopped inside, taking his shoes off out of habit and closing the door.

"You don't have to do that, I don't care." Her voice sounded from her kitchen. The place was small. There was a living room, a kitchen, and two doors. He guessed that one of them led to a bathroom and one to a bedroom.

Did she live all by herself?

"Oh, it's a habit," he replied absentmindedly, still gazing around.

"Want some water?" He looked back to see her holding a cup to him. He graciously accepted it, and remembered the flowers. He handed then to her.

She stared at them. "Are they really for me?"

"Yeah, of course." He was surprised at her response. She was still staring.

"My mom used to always give me flowers for my birthday," she said, wistfully.

He ached to know what had happened to her. His curiosity was overflowing, but he knew he absolutely did not want to push her too far.

"So do you live alone?" That was a question he had also been dying to know the answer to, but he thought it wasn't quite as invasive as the others.

"I emancipated myself," was her only reply.

He racked his brain for the definition of the word. Wasn't that where you legally declared yourself an adult and basically disowned your parents?

But that apparently only happened in very extreme cases, such as domestic abuse. Yet, he had seen her lay down the flowers at her mother's grave… that meant at least her mother was gone. Did she have a terrible relationship with her father and brother?

"Oh." He cleared his throat awkwardly. He had run out of things to say.

"Thank you," she murmured quietly. Very quietly. He felt sad, knowing that nobody at school had probably ever asked her to a dance, or given her flowers.

To be honest, he couldn't see why everybody hated her so much. Sure, she was a little rude, and she didn't have pretty clothing or the means to live in luxury, but what about her was really so different?

"How did you find my house?" Her voice sharply cut through his thoughts. He laughed nervously again, not wanting to seem like a stalker.

"Uh, it was in the school directory."

"Hn."

There was a long silence. Somehow, it wasn't awkward, even though with any other person it would've been. She sounded so, so tired.

He caught sight of the nine on her wrist and cringed, especially at the appearance of another cut. He wondered how people could hurt themselves. It just seemed so… _painful. _

"I still don't know if I can trust you." Her voice sounded vulnerable. She looked so, so scared.

"Well, try me. I promise I'm a regular person, and I don't have any hidden cameras or anything." Kukai gestured to the couch. "Let's just sit and talk."

She followed him slowly to her old couch, hesitantly sitting next to him.

"Tell me more about music." He figured she would talk more about something she liked.

"What do you want to know?" She practically whispered. So much for that.

"Anything."

"Did you know that this guy named John Dowland came up with the modern song form?" At his confused expression, she elaborated. "Like how there's a verse, then refrain, then verse. That perfect three minute song shape."

"It's crazy to think somebody actually invented it. It seems as though it's always been there. I wonder how the first person started singing."

Her eyes were filled with wonder.

"Music is my life. Not that I have much of one…" Suddenly she seemed to fall back into some sort of state, her eyes darkening as she stared off into space.

"Utau?"

She didn't answer, but her eyes widened in fear and she started breathing heavier.

"Utau!" He was beginning to get scared of the way she looked right now.

She seemed to snap out of her trance, and she looked at him shakily. "You should leave. Thank you for the flowers."

Before he could even respond, she was handing him his shoes and pushing him out the door. But before she closed it, she shyly whispered,

"And thanks for listening."

* * *

"Hi, mommy. Aren't these flowers beautiful?" She placed the bouquet down and fingered the petals gently. "A boy named Kukai gave them to me… imagine that. I'm almost positive he thinks I'm someone else or something."

"He's really nice, Mommy. And handsome, with brown hair and green eyes and a smile full of life. It's too good to be true. I swear something's gonna go wrong."

"Do I talk about him a lot? I'm sorry. I don't know why I do."

Utau stood up, aware that her ramblings had become half crazy. Yet, talking to her mother was the only time she felt peace. "Bye, Mommy. I'll see you in eight days."

When she got home, she suddenly realized how small her house was. She imagined how Kukai felt walking into this dirty little place. She glanced in a mirror. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were puffy from crying. Her outfit was the same one she had worn all week.

All of a sudden, a scary churning feel surfaced in her stomach and her insecurities came crashing down. "God, he probably thinks I'm a hobo."

She closed her eyes. "I don't care, I don't care, I don't care…"

She reached for her blade, her only companion, the one she knew she could trust.

But she couldn't bring herself to touch her skin. Usually, when she cut, she felt numb. She felt detached, like she wasn't even really alive. She had to reassure herself by watching the crimson drops spill out and blossom in the water.

But today her heart was beating and she felt sick to her stomach and she was blinking rapidly.

She felt alive and she couldn't tell whether she hated or loved it.

She put the blade down and instead, turned over in her bed and went to sleep.

* * *

**Idk, I feel like most of this is inaccurate. I've never cut, nor am I suicidal, and I don't know anyone that is or does. So I really have no experience with this... this is only my personal interpretation.**


	3. A Song On Her Lips

On Monday, Kukai saw her again. He caught sight of her right before lunch, and noticed that she didn't go into the lunchroom like everybody else. Instead, she wandered down a lonely hallway and disappeared.

"Hey bro, where are you going?" Kukai only just realized that his feet had turned down the hallway she had just walked, subconsciously.

What should he do? Pretend like he didn't see her to himself, and go have lunch with his friends like always.

But that wouldn't be right. No, he had stood by for far too long. He could help her. No one even had to know.

"Uh, I forgot, I have to make up a test," he said, waving his friends on. "You guys go. I'll see you next period."

The other guys didn't question him, but Nagi threw him a suspicious glance. Thankfully, Rima came up and punched him in the gut, successfully distracting him.

He slipped down the hallway, helplessly stuck at an intersection. Where had she gone?

"What are you doing?"

He whirled around and saw her, her bag slung over her shoulder and her eyes narrowed in hostility. He mentally sighed. It was so hard to get past her shields. Every time they talked, he felt like they were starting over again.

"I'm eating lunch with you today."

She didn't reply. He realized that she didn't know what to say. Was she supposed to be immensely grateful? No, he didn't want that. He was only doing what he would do for anyone else. Was she supposed to be cautious, because she believed nobody would willingly ever eat lunch with her? He didn't want that, either. He didn't only feel pity for her, but also an undeniable interest in the mysterious, broken girl.

So she said nothing, and he said nothing. Instead, he slid down the wall next to her. She, he noticed, didn't have any food. So absentmindedly, he took his sandwich and split it in half, and offered it to her.

She stared for a long time, before he gently shoved it at her and it seemed to register that he had meant for her to take it.

Gingerly, Utau took the sandwich. Then she looked at him. "Hey, uh…"

"Yeah?" He tried to make himself sound as open and friendly as possible. He didn't want her to be uncomfortable.

"So this… situation has come up." She chose her words carefully, not wanting to let him know she was planning to kill herself. "And before I couldn't really spend money, but now I can. So would you like to… to…" she struggled to get the words out. "U-Uh, go to the mall w-with me?"

"Ooh, like a date?" He teased, and immediately he realized that was probably a stupid thing to say. Utau would probably think he was making fun of her.

"No, I mean, no one would ever want- forget it. I knew you wouldn't want to go…" she muttered, staring down.

"No, no!" He quickly said. "I do, I promise. After school today?"

Her lips trembled a little, disbelievingly. But she nodded, and he grinned in relief.

Then he heard sharp, harsh footsteps, and he just knew the sound of Saaya's catwalk, and even though there was nothing to be scared of he tensed and felt the urge to flee.

Because she would see him with Utau.

He was ashamed of himself, really. There was nothing wrong with hanging with Utau, in his eyes, but in hers…

_ "Talk to her again, and I will ruin you."_

He'd end up just like the blonde, harassed and tortured until he didn't want to live anymore.

No, there was more to it. Utau's mother had died. She essentially had no parents, having emancipated herself. And he knew she had a history of pain, but he wasn't quite sure what had really happened.

And then Saaya was upon them, all cruel green eyes and red hair in perfect ringlets, venom dripping from her words.

"Kukai, darling, what are you doing with this piece of… ew. At least trash can be recycled. Honey, your face would have to be destroyed to get prettier."

Kukai had to admit he felt a little scared. Her voice, the way she towered over them, intimidated him. But he realized that everybody was scared of her. Nobody was willing to stand up for Utau, to help someone who desperately needed it, just because they were scared of her.

And they say that you can only get hurt if you give someone permission to hurt you. He felt a sense of peace, a calm clarity wash over him. He felt detached. After all, if he gave all of it up, he had nothing left to lose. He was sick of this.

"You know what, Saaya? Fuck off."

Her glossed mouth formed an 'o', and she was utterly speechless.

He stared back defiantly, and in that moment, an unspoken agreement was severed. He was no longer a jock, a person who was socially accepted. Saaya would make sure of it.

Fuming, she turned around and stalked away, and Kukai watched her go with a kind of numbness. The reality of it hadn't really hit him. He couldn't imagine his life drastically changing at all.

Suddenly, in a moment of natural human weakness, he felt panicked. What if he became like Utau? What if he hated himself and life so much, he wanted to die, too? Then who would help both of them?

But as he looked to the amethyst eyes wide beside him, filled with a newfound respect, he knew it was worth it.

* * *

"This is so weird…" Utau muttered, glancing around the huge shopping mall. "I have actual money to spend."

"Why is that?" Kukai casually questioned. They both decided to just skip class after lunch. Utau stiffened.

"Uh… no reason. One of my distant relatives passed away and left me some money in her will," she lied quickly.

He nodded, accepting the somewhat plausible explaination. He gestured around. "What do you want to buy?"

What do girls usually want to buy? Utau tried to think. "Um… clothes?"

He nodded again and they headed in the direction of a well-known clothes store. Utau searched and tried to be interested, but after selecting a couple basics, she just couldn't continue. It was quite boring.

Kukai noticed her listlessly browsing and tried to stifle a laugh. He probably liked shopping more than Utau did, judging by her facial expression.

"Hey, you don't have to buy a bunch of clothes just because you can. Buy something you like," he told her, startling her into dropping an article of clothing.

She mentally sighed with relief. "Alright then, let's go," she tried to say nonchalantly, but he caught the eagerness in her voice and laughed.

They wandered around a bit, until Utau spotted a soft pretzel stand and they stopped to eat a couple of snacks. Kukai teased her for being clumsy as she dropped her pretzel when she tripped, and she blushed and stammered, but he laughed and told her he was joking.

And then he bought her a new one, and Utau was in wonder. This was so new, so weird. Nobody had ever paid attention to her like this, teased her in such a friendly, fun way. It had always been harsh cruel words, people tripping her on purpose, and she felt like she was being born into a different world.

Then they passed a music shop and her eyes grew wide. There it was.

She stopped abruptly, and Kukai looked at her curiously. She didn't explain, but immediately stepped into the shop.

She steadily walked down the aisle, hanging instruments everywhere, until she reached a pretty little guitar, made with matte wood. She gingerly reached up and touched it, and all of a sudden Kukai understood.

"Would you like to try it?" The saleswomen asked nicely. Utau nodded, almost reverently.

The woman took it down and handed it to her. Utau sat down on the stool and strummed a few chords. Then she shifted a bit and started playing.

"And baby you can tell me, that my mirror's broken, and I can't see myself. But baby let me tell you, beauty means nothing when you're scarred, and I'm the broken one," she sang, closing her eyes with an expression of peace settling onto her features.

"And why can't everybody just leave me alone? I've got enough monsters inside, I don't need more in disguise, somebody give me a place to hide…" She strummed more fiercely now, singing with all her heart.

"Get the hell away from me, I'm too messed up for anybody to love. You could anything you want to be, but me I've got no freedom, I'm bound and held in hell."

She finished with light single notes, her voice dropping down to a beautiful, soft clear melody. "Baby you can tell me my mirror's broken… but I'm far more shattered than that."

Kukai was speechless.

"Did you write that?" He blurted out.

She shrugged shyly. "I kind of thought it up today, yeah."

"That's amazing. You have a gift," Kukai muttered, a little in awe.

"How much?" Utau asked.

The saleswoman looked at Utau, saw how ragged and broken she was, not only on the outside, but inside as well. She saw the faded scars and the fresh ones, brutally ruining a perfectly smooth canvas of wrist. She had heard the voice, the voice of an angel, and who could deny an angel their song?

So she took the guitar and put it in a case, and told Utau half the price of what was really on the tag. Kukai noticed, but Utau did not. Simply smiling, she took out the money and paid.

As they exited the store, Kukai looked back and caught the store employee's eyes, and she smiled and waved him off, like, "No big deal." And it gave him maybe a little more faith in humanity, let him realize that good people still existed.

Utau hummed under her breath, and for the first time, her music had sung out.

Kukai wanted to take her hand then, and so he did. He wasn't the type to not do what he wanted. She seemed surprised, but she did not react. Instead, shyly, hesitantly, quietly, she left her hand in his.

But he could see her scars, and suddenly he stopped her. "Promise me."

"Promise what?"

"That you won't cut again." Before she could protest or be offended or something, he felt the need to explain. "Because I heard you sing today, and I heard something the world needs. I heard an angel and angels don't need to hurt themselves to make themselves feel better. You're beautiful and you can't ruin yourself like this."

Maybe the Utau of before, the one from this morning, would've snapped, "Watch me. You don't know a single fucking thing about me. I will do what I want."

But the Utau of four hours later was different. The Utau with a guitar on her back and a song on her lips was different. The Utau holding Kukai's hand was suddenly vulunerable, because somehow this messy haired, green eyed boy knew more about her than maybe she did herself. No, he didn't know about her past. He wouldn't know, probably ever. But he knew _her_.

So she nodded. "I promise."

* * *

"Today was a good day."

Utau looked at her naked body in the mirror, holding the blade to her wrist. The cool metal had not yet dug into her flesh, and she really hoped it wouldn't, in her mind. She knew this was bad for her. She had _promised! _

But she also craved it, craved the sight of her crimson blood leaking out onto the pristine white tiles below.

The one thing she hated was when people thought she was fine. That she was pretending to have a shitty life for attention.

"You don't even look depressed!"

_Well, I'm sorry, _Utau thought bitterly. _Want me to cry in front of you, slash my wrists before you, and fucking wear a sign that says 'Suicidal'?_

No, she didn't like it at all.

Because the thing was, even though she was depressed, she was still functional. Depression was a mental disorder, she was told. And Utau was depressed in the way that some teenagers were, saying they hated their lives because their boyfriends broke up with them, or something like that. Utau was legitimately depressed, in the mental disorder way.

It didn't mean she was retarded. No, she could live day-to-day, wake up, go to school, and sit alone everywhere. She could speak if spoken to. She could laugh and smile, she could go to the mall and shop like a normal person.

But at night, when her façade could be broken, break it would. Because the monsters would creep back, they would overtake everything. They would cloud her mind and torture her, remember every single mistake, make her hate herself.

Make her hate living.

They were always there, telling her how imperfect she was, telling her how everything was her fault. How she was utterly alone.

It didn't matter if Kukai ditched her friends to sit with her, if he brought her flowers. He couldn't fix her now, because the monsters were there and they would not go.

She struggled to hold on to her memories of today, of a good day, but they were slipping and the black cloud was coming over again, and all the jumbled fragments and shards of her past cut her.

And her blade cut into her skin, deep and precise.

After what seemed like a blurry, blissfully numb eternity, she raised her head and looked at herself in the mirror.

"Today was a go-" she tried to finish the sentence, but broke down crying instead.

Because she had broke her promise to Kukai, but mostly, to herself.

* * *

**Poor Utau, her monsters inside... I wonder what exactly happened in her past?**

**Also, I did write the song in the middle. I kind of like it.**

**~Sea**


	4. The Final Night

But she was getting better.

It was hard to imagine, hard for Utau to admit. After that night, when she had broken her promise, she _swore, _never again. If there was one thing she could say about herself, it was that she kept promises.

So she hid the cut for a few days, until it healed. She resisted the urge, and she locked away her blades.

She still kept the countdown going. She hadn't promised not to kill herself, and one person wasn't enough to wash away the rest.

But she was getting better.

A four was painted on her skin, the black ink harsh against her pale tones. Kukai winced. He was running out of time.

But hopefully, _hopefully, _he could fix her enough to convince her not to leave this world. No, he wasn't capable of making her right again, entirely, but he thought maybe having a friend would keep her here just a bit longer, long enough to get some real help.

She was quiet that day, but he knew it wasn't because she had nothing to say, but because she had perhaps too much to say that she never would. She would always have too much to say that she never could. He wondered if maybe, if she made it past these four days, if he would understand her.

And suddenly, terrible, everything went horribly wrong.

They were only _walking down the hallway. They were just walking. _He didn't understand how such an innocent act could trigger such an explosive, tragic, reaction.

_Oh great, _Kukai thought as Saaya appeared, this time with a little group of followers. He noticed, with slight surprise, that these weren't her usual hair flipping, gum smacking, glossy-lipped popular girls, but rather, an odd group that didn't seem to quite fit naturally, but had only come together for some terrible, malicious, intent.

One guy, eyes narrowed with a glint that showed that he was much too smart for his own good, and another was grinning nastily, looking all shady.

"Did you _know_," Saaya half-purred, half-hissed, "that your little Utau has some _top-secret_ classified information she doesn't want anyone to know?"

Kukai stiffened, and he shot a glance towards Utau. What was Saaya talking about? What kind of line had she just crossed? Because he was sure that if Utau had a secret, it was a big one.

But the blonde looked completely comfortable besides the natural fright that accompanied Saaya's presence. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, first off," Saaya said, turning to the intelligent looking one, who handed her a folder, which she then proceeded to expertly flip through, "I managed to find out something quite interesting about her family."

She sauntered closer, professionally, pinching the pieces of paper in her hands. "Utau, I know you've always wondered why we think you're a freak. To be perfectly sincere, the question is why wouldn't we? Most of us don't know the details. But what we do know…" She leaned closer and smiled maliciously.

"…Is that you killed your family."

Kukai heard a sharp intake of breath and it took him a second to realize that it had come from himself. Utau remained as motionless as stone beside him.

He was shocked. He had heard the rumor floating around, heard some little bits and pieces, but somehow this was different, coming from Saaya's mouth, so openly, towards Utau herself.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Saaya sneered. "Did you lose your memory or something?"

_Wait. Memory loss?_

Kukai remembered that sometimes, when people had traumatic experiences, they repressed it and didn't remember anything. But that couldn't have happened to Utau, could it? Even if you lost your memory, wouldn't you have some uneasy feelings? Wouldn't she question how her family had died?

Utau was starting to lose her composure. "I really don't understand what you're talking about."

Saaya sighed dramatically, and the other guy, the shady one, snickered. "Car crash? Stairs? Emancipation? Does that ring a bell?"

"I-I…" Utau's eyes looked wild and frantic, and her breathing was erratic.

"'Tell Utau we love her. And this is not her fault." Saaya arched a brow. "Those were your father's lasts words, did you know? First and last time anyone would ever say that."

And all of a sudden, everything broke.

Utau _screamed, _a horrible, broken sound that pierced his mind and heart. She looked like suddenly something had snapped in her; some thin, careful membrane had ruptured. And all the memories had resurfaced.

"I-I'm sorry," she said, but she didn't appear to be talking to any of them.

And then she ran.

Kukai was too stunned to even chase after her.

* * *

Everything was a blur. Nothing made sense, and Utau could barely make it past her front door before collapsing, the ceiling spinning frightfully above her.

_Mom… Dad… Ikuto… _

_ Young Utau was holding her mother's hand, while Ikuto was sitting on the edge of the bank, fishing with their father._

_ Utau giggled as Ikuto tried to reel one in, but ended up tripping backwards. "Onii-san, good job!" she teased._

_ Ikuto looked annoyed, tossing grass at his little sister, who squealed and ducked. Aruto laughed and ruffled his son's hair, his features so similar but expression so different. _

_ Souko smiled fondly at the people she loved most. Days like this, sunshine soaking into their hair and skin and souls, were what she lived for._

_ But not all days went like this, and for the most part, that was okay. There had to be rain sometimes, too._

_ Until Aruto disappeared._

_ One day he was gone. Just gone. Utau had the feeling that Souko and Ikuto knew something she didn't, maybe had a note that he had left and they wouldn't show it to her. She was only eight, after all. Ikuto was eleven, not much older, but the only man in the house now that Aruto was gone._

_ But after that, there weren't many sunny days. Ikuto had always been stoic, but now he was sullen. Utau grew up without the constant, warm presence of her father._

_ Souko had tried her very best, constantly smiling and laughing, baking them cookies and packing lunch, attending all of Utau's chorus concerts and Ikuto's violin shows._

_ But the children were brighter than that, smarter. They had seen her weeping at the kitchen table long after the hours of humans, seen her praying and cursing and hugging herself to sleep._

_ Slowly, Utau learned that they would have to get by this way. Fine. They would. Plenty of other families were broken, and they could deal with it. They didn't need Aruto._

_ And when she was thirteen, she found that wasn't true. Perhaps she and Ikuto did not, but Souko did. Perhaps the stress of both children, combined with Aruto's unexplained disappearance, and her naturally weak immune system, was too much. She fell ill._

_ Utau held onto the small hope that their mother would get better, but Ikuto knew otherwise. And yet the two of them trudged along, helping each other, caring for their mother._

_ They all often thought that while their situation was hard, it was possible. They loved each other, and no one was going to break that bond._

_ Except for Death himself._

_ Dressed all in black, drenched in the pouring rain, Utau's eyes were shadowed. She trailed her fingers over the cold coffin, containing an equally cold body. Her hair had been pulled into a tight up-do, barely manageable with the amount she possessed._

_ Ikuto stood gravely beside her, hands in his pockets and tears, for once, rolling down his face._

_ For an instant, Utau was scared. Were they orphans now? How would they live? She didn't want to move into a stranger's house, have them be called her parents. It wasn't her life._

_ Then a hand landed on her shoulder, and a familiar voice said, "Hello, my children. You've grown so much."_

_ Utau often wondered what her first reaction should've been, when Aruto showed up. Should she have sobbed and said she was sorry, for not taking care of their mother enough? Should she have just kept quiet, and mourn in the moment? Should she have been glad to have him back?_

_ Whatever it was, she chose a far different option. Her hand, freezing and numb, came up sharply and slapped her father across the face, in front of everyone at the funeral, at the grave of her mother._

_ She could only cry furiously, spewing out accusations. "Where were you?! Do you know how hard it's been? We needed you! And now LOOK!" She pointed a finger at her mother's body, ragged breaths coming out of her angry expression. "Now she's gone, and it's all your fault."_

_ "Shhh," Ikuto had tried to tell her, but all she knew was her legs had taken her somewhere far away already, away from the sense of death and dark and despair._

_ She barely remembered how she got home, or what she was doing, only that there were scissors and blond hair scattered everywhere. Only that her father and brother had come home to her screaming and hair shorn off, sobbing into her mother's pillow. _

_ And it didn't help that the next day; there were already rumors about her. "Did you hear? She slapped her own father at her mother's funeral! That's so disrespectful!"_

_ "I heard he left them because he didn't like his children."_

_ "But why would he dislike Ikuto-sama? He's so talented, smart, independent, and probably just like his father!"_

_ "True… So are you saying it's because… of her?"_

_ "Must be. She even looks like a delinquent now, all that hair of hers cut off."_

_ Everything had started to come apart._

* * *

Utau felt sick. She staggered to her kitchen, splashed water in her face, and tried to get the memories out. She banged her head against the marble countertop until she collapsed, and she curled into a ball, breathing heavily and crying.

There was more, but it wasn't coming through, her mind instinctively blocking the harmful memories.

She could only cry and scream as she drowned in her abyss, and the worst part was she couldn't even remember why. She _wanted_ to remember, except she didn't, because she was sure that if she did she would die.

_So? So? _Her mind screamed at her. _Who cares? You want to die. So do it. Die. Everyone wants you gone. _

_Oh, you're right._ The other part of her said, nicely and without resistance._ I want to die._

The last thing she could remember thinking coherently, was _him. I should leave something for him. I want to thank him for trying._

But how could she? She had nothing to give but herself, and her secrets. She couldn't even remember that.

Fumbling, she found an empty disk. Inserting it into her old laptop and turning on the webcam, pressed the record button, and she started talking, not bothering to wipe her eyes or organize her dirty, messy hair.

"I'm sorry."

Then she started rambling, telling her story, saying things she never thought she would, words materializing and leaving her lips, touching the air, and it made it all the more terrible, all the more real.

"God, life was so easy when I was young. You know my brother, Ikuto? Yeah, well he's dead now. I mean, that sounded insensitive. But he is. Even if I said it a different way, that's what he is. Of course, I miss him, but…"

She wasn't even aware of what she was saying anymore, but when she got to the end, to her mental block, suddenly a barrier lifted and she could remember it all, spilling out of her mouth.

"Everything just kept getting worse and worse. I was failing several classes, and I stopped taking voice lessons and chorus. I got into fights a lot, about everything with my friends. Slowly, I didn't have friends anymore."

"I never understood how my brother did it. How he stayed so strong. He was able to take responsibility for his life and move on, peacefully, but I never could. Maybe it had something to do with that note Father left, the one Ikuto and Mother never showed to me. Why were they all part of something, and I wasn't?"

"Maybe that girl was right. They didn't want me. That's why they didn't tell me anything. They didn't want me to know and become a part of them. I was only ever an annoying little girl to them, unable to do anything for the family, to help or understand, unlike Ikuto."

"But that wasn't even all. I have always blamed my father for my mother's death, so I could never forgive him. It's kind of weird, because he understood. Which only made it worse. If I was going to hate him, I wanted him to hate me too."

Utau half-laughed, half-sobbed, raking a hand through her already messy hair. "So I did everything I could to make him hate me. It was bad. So bad. I was such an ungrateful, disgusting child. I still am. If I wasn't, why would I want to kill myself? I just can't do it."

"One day, he finally gave me a reaction. He told me he was disappointed in me, that I couldn't continue living my life this way. That he cared about me and wanted me to have a good life."

"But HOW COULD I? HOW COULD I WHEN MY LIFE WAS ALREADY BROKEN BEYOND REPAIR? It wasn't fair! Nothing was! And I-" Utau took a breath, tried to think it through, tried to finish the story without breaking down.

"Did you know, in science, the second law of thermodynamics states that all things in the universe naturally move towards high entropy? Entropy is the state of disorder and chaos," Utau said hoarsely. "Was my life only just science? Probably. Because as time went on, life just got worse. It moved towards chaos and there was nothing I could do to make it better."

"When he started fighting back, trying to order the chaos, it only drove me to fight harder. I can't remember now, why I was so stubborn, why I hated him so much for things like this. I should've just moved on, tried to make my life better. But I couldn't, and I've only ever been stuck there."

"Then…" Utau's eyes clouded over. "Then it got worse. Everything shattered. I ran out of the house one day, finally, when my father started yelling at me, wanting to send me to boarding school, and Ikuto was there, taking his side."

"I don't even know what I was doing. The last thing I shouted before I slammed the door, was "I HATE YOU BOTH! EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND I WON'T EVER FORGIVE YOU!"

Her voice was now quiet. Clear. Calm. Reflective. "Maybe I wasn't really talking to them. Maybe it was only me that I hated. Because even if it was my father's fault for leaving us, even if Mother died because of that, the rest of it wasn't. He had tried to help me. I was only spiraling downward, into despair, and I hated myself for not reaching towards the only people who could've pulled me out."

"That night was the final night. I ran. I don't know where I went, but I knew I was inside a building. There were stairs, and I fell. As I was lying on the floor, injured, I couldn't really honestly say I regretted it. What did I even have to live for, anyways?"

"But I suppose my father and brother didn't believe that. They heard, when the ambulances were called, that their daughter and sister had been hurt. That she might be dead. And then they got into a car, worried sick, and drove so fast that…"

"…they crashed."

She started trembling at all the implications, hitting her at once. "The last thing I said to them! I said I hated them! They _died_ thinking that I despised them, and they came after me even after that! What a disgusting thing I am! I hate myself! And everyone else does, too. I'm worthless and I deserve_ to die."_

And she was trembling now, sobbing and crying and hugging herself. She was screaming, or maybe she wasn't really, but all she knew was she couldn't hear anything and nothing made sense.

"So I will."

* * *

_ "If I were you, I'd put that away... see you're just wasted, and thinking about the past again. Darling you'll be okay..."_

_ "And she said, 'If you were me, you'd do the same. And I can't take it anymore, I'll draw the shades and close the door, everything's not alright...and I would rather..."_

* * *

**I was going to have this be a last explosive chapter, but it was getting really long and I wanted to explain everything clearly. So actually, the climax has yet to come. Song: Hold On Till May by Pierce the Veil.**

**I love you all. Trust me, every single one of you are worth this, worth so much more than you believe. If you ever want to hurt yourself or die, know that I'm here for you and you deserve much better. I love you. **

**~Sea**


End file.
